The sun in its splendor woke me up this morningIt pecked through my window Sipped through the curtains And caressed me awake. Outside it’s a menace thoughHe must be angry with farmers, cattle keepers and green lovers. Look at what he has done to the plains,Eaten away all the grassBurnt away all treesSucked away all water from springsMutara is all brownButare is dead, where it was aliveThey say it’s a seasonA dry seasonA dry spell. But I say that the sun is annoyedAnd the wind has joined in the fightSweeping the hills cleanStripping the top-soil off themDon’t ask me what happened to the wind breakers- the trees. They have long given up the fight; dry shameless wood standing.Let me pray. This standoff between man and nature must stop.Let me hope against hope.This dry spell will end soon.Let me pray for the rain to remember me.Me and my now green dry garden,Me and Gaju my beautiful cow; He is thin and hungry.And thirsty. Ends
